Nice to Meet You Again
by seaandshe
Summary: Haruhi Fujioka isn't having the best week. She's been thrust back into elite society  against her will, her friends are worried about her, and she might have just invented an imaginary boyfriend. So if she's a little snippy, try to be patient, okay?
1. Chapter 1

**Nice to Meet You Again**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in this story. All respective characters, situations, etc. belong to Bisco Hatori. I am not profiting from this in any way, shape or form. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_Crap, _I thought. I was going to be late. I _hate_ being late. It was all my roommate's fault. Aya invited some friends over from school "to relax," and as usual, they got me to join in the antics. Things are a little hazy, but I remember wine that later turned into liquor, lots of dancing, and even more of the room spinning. Ugh, peer pressure. You would think at 28 I'd know my drinking limit and when to say no, but apparently not.

The subway was more crowded than usual this morning, much to my annoyance. People were crushing me on all sides, ensuring that my suit was going to be wrinkled long before 8:30 am. Yeah, okay. Becoming an associate affords me enough money to take a taxi, but habits learned in childhood are hard to shake. It's always better to have some money stashed away in case of an emergency.

Aside from the obnoxious commute, and the long hours that come with working at a prestigious law firm, I can't complain about my life. I've achieved my dream. I am finally a lawyer, just like my mother. The work is honest and good and I go home at night knowing that I help others.

Okay, so I'm not seeing anybody at the moment, but that's not anything I'm concerned about. Like I said, I work long hours. It's hard to start a meaningful relationship when the earliest you can meet for a date is ten.

I've dated guys on and off, but the most serious relationship I've ever had was with Tamaki Suoh. That turned out just _great_ in the end. It was my fault, too. I broke his heart, and destroyed six precious friendships in the process. Only Honey-sempai still talks to me, and even that is infrequent.

We dated for nearly six years before I destroyed his heart. That's a long time for any couple, but it's eternity when you're in high school. Everyone thought we would marry, but everyone was young and stupid. Tamaki and me especially. We had dreams of marrying and running away, marrying and becoming Tokyo's golden couple, marrying and growing old together, marrying and raising stupid goofy children. But, it just didn't work out that way.

I don't blame the club for taking his side, though. They were friends with him longer than they were with me, and I think deep down they knew I'd be okay. Tamaki was the one to worry about. I just needed some time to pick up the pieces of my own broken heart and to keep working.

I wish I could say there was one reason why it didn't work out between him and I, but instead, there were a dozen little reasons that when added up, meant I wasn't supposed to live the Suoh life. Sure we had dreams of running away, but they were just children's dreams. Both of us knew deep down I'd have to become to perfect Suoh trophy wife. He didn't want it for me, but his company would have pushed it on us. Japan may be a first world nation, but my country can be pretty old-fashioned when it comes to power and wealth.

Tamaki goes into life head first. He leaps before he thinks and wears his heart on his sleeve. I'm pretty sure within us dating for a month, he knew that he wanted to marry me. Within a month of dating Tamaki, I wasn't even sure I still wanted to date him. How someone can make a decision like that at 16 baffles me. I couldn't make any decision at 16. There were days when I wasn't even sure what shoes I wanted to wear in the morning, and I only owned two pairs of shoes!

He was much more comfortable with the fame than I was at the time. He had grown up in that world, and I was always the visitor. His family had gotten used to me by the third year of our dating, but it didn't matter. I felt like an outsider anyways. I never knew which fork to use, when to stand up or sit down, and when it was appropriate to introduce myself to a new person, and when it wasn't.

In the end, it was all just too much. Too many reasons to leave stacked on top of one another, and not enough reasons to stay. The hardest day of my life was the day I realized that even though I loved Tamaki Suoh, I couldn't be with him.

My thoughts are interrupted with the announcement that my stop is next. Pushing my way through the crowd, I'm able to get off the subway without too many battle scars. I quickly check my watch. 8:25. If I hurry, I'll only be ten minutes late. And if I'm _really_ lucky, no one will notice I'm ten minutes late.

The Work Gods are with me today because I am able to sneak into the office without anyone noticing. Or, at least no one who matters. George, the receptionist notices, but he just winks, puts his finger to his lips and waves me in. I _knew _there was a reason I liked George. Besides a constant stream of office gossip, that is.

I'm barely seated at my desk before Saki, my assistant, comes in. "Haruhi-san, Nakamura-sacho has asked for your help at 10:00 am." I nod. Nakamura is one of the nicer senior partners. He's always treated me with respect, and even though he's never said anything, George swears he had a hand in getting me promoted.

"Do you know what with?"

Saki shrugs. "I just heard it's a big client, and an unusual case." Hm. That could describe just about anyone, and anything. There haven't been any big crimes in the news recently, and I haven't heard of any corporate scandals, so I have no idea what kind of case to expect. I smile at Saki, grateful for the little information she has.

"Thanks Saki-san." She smiles back and says she'll bring me some coffee in a few minutes, to which I'm grateful. She can always tell when I'm a little hungover.

Once the coffee arrives, I'm able to concentrate on long overdue e-mails, memos and bills. The work keeps me busy until Saki knocks on my door again to tell me of the imminent meeting. She walks with me to Nakamura's office. We have to navigate around the hustle and bustle of the Monday morning rush. No one seems to ever get enough work done on Friday, so people busily try to make up for it Monday morning.

"George was able to give me a little more information," she whispers conspiratorially. "He heard the client is a female, and an old friend of Nakamura-sacho's. It seems like Sacho specifically asked for y-o-u." She pokes me in the shoulder, like a friend would.

"Any idea why?" I ask, confused. I know I'm good at my job, but there are five other associates who are just as good at their job as I am.

"No clue. Maybe you know the client?" Saki wonders out-loud.

"Ha! I don't know _anybody_." I mutter mostly to myself. Well, that's not entirely true. I don't know anybody _now._ Which is entirely my fault. If I had chosen a different path, I'd probably know everyone.

Before Saki can interrogate me, I quickly ask, "did you get a name from George?"

Saki blushes. "He did say a name, but I've completely forgotten. I'm sorry. You'll just have to go in surprised."

"Don't worry about it. George usually exaggerates these things anyways." We reach Nakamura's office, Saki hands me my files, and wishes me luck with a cute "fighting" motion of her arms.

Nakamura's assistant buzzes into the office, and I'm immediately let in. The client is seated with her back towards me, and is in the midst of conversation with Nakamura. I give her the once over.

_Hm...natural black hair, modest, yet chic clothing, in her forties._ As I've grown up, there's something I've noticed about wealthy people. The people who like to show off their wealth aren't the richest. The flashier the person is, the more jewelry they wear, the more expensive car they drive, the less rich they are, comparatively. By the way this woman was tastefully dressed, she was _extremely _wealthy.

I cough to let Nakamura know I'm here, and he looks up from their intense conversation. "Ah, Fujioka-san. Come sit, and let me introduce you." He gestures to our client. She turns around to greet me, and that's when I see who it is.

Fuyumi Ootori.

Shit.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Hi everyone! I'm new around these parts, but not new to Ouran. However, it wasn't until the live action started airing that I realized how amaaaaazzzzzinnngggggg (with sparkles and hearts and rainbows) Kyoya is, and I jumped ship. I've only written the first two chapters of this story, but I've got a complete outline, so I hope I can update regularly. In the meantime, I'd love any sort of feedback, even if it's just spazzing about how handsome Daito Shunsuke is (because omg, I can't even stand it, and yeah, I will spazz with you over it).

And as a last note, just so people don't get upset,...we won't actually see Kyoya until chapter 3 or 4...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I'm standing in my boss' office. I'm standing in my boss' office completely shellshocked. Fuyumi Ootori is sitting in my boss' office. Fuyumi Ootori, Kyoya Ootori's older sister is my client. Kyoya Ootori, my old classmate and friend, who hasn't spoken to me in six years.

As much as I would like to dwell on _that _fact, the reality is that Fuyumi Ootori is sitting in my boss' office, staring at me with wide eyes that give no clue as to whether or not she recognizes me. The only indication her face currently gives is that I am a crazy person.

I'm pretty sure my mouth is open, and I am completely at a loss of what to do. Fuyumi and Nakamura are clearly waiting for me to say something, but it's all I can do to not scurry out of the room, like a cockroach does when you turn on a light.

Maybe it was naive to think I'd never run into Ouran High School people again, but it had certainly seemed like they were doing their best to avoid me. Up until now.

Nakamura coughs once, letting me know in his not-very-subtle way that too much time has passed in silence. His cough snaps me back to reality, and I regain enough control of my body to sit down in the chair next to Fuyumi. During this small motion, my eyes remain locked on hers, searching for any sign of recognition. She doesn't give any away.

"Fuyumi," Nakamura says, dropping any formalities between the two of them, "this is Fujioka-san, one of our most...promising associates." The way he finishes his sentence I know Nakamura is currently questioning my capabilities as a lawyer, if not a human being. Can't blame him. I'd be doing the same. I make a mental note to work harder the next couple of weeks.

"Nice to make your acquaintance Fujioka-san. I'm Fuyumi Ootori." Fuyumi smiles, and I'm just as lost as before. We've met at least four times. I was one of Kyoya's six friends in school. I dated her brother's best friend for six years! She's got to know who I am, right? At the very least Haruhi Fujioka should sound like a familiar name, and yet, she gives away...nothing.

Fuyumi holds out her hand for me to shake. I do so weakly, and try to not look like a complete dolt. "Haruhi Fujioka," I say, much more confidently than I feel. "Please take good care of me." She nods her consent, and Nakamura opens his mouth to speak some more.

"One of the reasons I asked Fujioka-san to help with this case," Nakamura says, "is because she also attended Ouran High School. Actually," he pauses for a moment, as if he's considering whether or not to say more. "As far as I know, Fujioka-san is the only student to ever have attended Ouran as a scholarship student, making her accomplishment much more admirable."

"You attended Ouran High School, too, Fujioka-san?" Fuyumi asks me, smiling. I nod my head once. "My entire family went to Ouran." Does she really not recognize me? We've been sitting in the same room for nearly five minutes. If she knew me, she would have said something by now.

I guess...Fuyumi really doesn't remember me.

Oh.

Well, if she doesn't know me, then I don't know her too. If I said something now, it would just embarrass her in front of my boss.

"Really?" I ask, trying to recall my acting skills from the host club. "I really enjoyed my time there. It was a very good school."

"It was the _best_ school," Fuyumi corrects me, and then changes the subject. "You look like you're quite young, Fujioka-san. May I inquire as to your age? I'm curious if you attended at the same time as one of my brothers." She cocks her head to the side, and smiles innocently. My stomach drops when I make eye contact with her. Does she know? Is she acting too? What if she's pretending to not know me because she thinks I don't remember her?

"I'm 28," I mumble, dread filling up my entire being.

Fuyumi clasps her hands together enthusiastically. "Then you must have known my youngest brother, Kyoya! Surely you knew him?" Shit. She totally knows. She's just playing with me.

Nakamura smiles, "Kyoya Ootori is quite a talented young man. He was popular in his school days, wasn't he?"

Fuyumi dismisses him. "Oh no, from what I remember he was quite the devil. He was always calculating and manipulating people...but even though he did all that, I think he was pretty charming. But surely Fujioka-san can tell us the real _truth_ about my younger brother." Nakamura and Fuyumi look to me to say something about Kyoya. Fuyumi winks once in my direction. Yup. She knows and is just messing with my mind. And it's totally working. You know what, Fuyumi? If you want to play, I can play.

"I didn't know Kyoya-sempai very well," I lie. "He was always busy with his host club."

Nakamura almost chokes on his own spit. "Kyoya was in a host club? In _school_?"

"Oh yes," I continue. "He was practically the leader. I think he was really popular with the girls." This last comment makes Nakamura laugh, and Fuyumi visibly cringe.

"I would have never guessed! He always seemed so serious. I didn't think he even knew what girls were." Nakamura's familiarity with the Ootori family confuses me, but I can't allow myself to get distracted. I've got a game against Fuyumi to win here. I can ask George later about Nakamura's relationship with the Ootori's.

"Now that I'm thinking about it," I tap my finger against my chin, as if I'm lost in thought, "I remember hearing that Kyoya was the _most _popular in the host club. Girls were always requesting him."

"Yes, well, Kyoya has always been kind-hearted," Fuyumi tries to recover, but it's clear I've come out the victor. Not that Nakamura minds. He just looks amused. Fuyumi makes eye contact with me, and now it's my turn to wink.

"It seems like we've broken the ice adequately, so how about we get down to work?" Nakamura is still smiling, and Fuyumi nods her head, her face flushed.

"Let's get Fujioka-_san_ up to speed." She emphasizes 'san' as a warning to me. If she wants to, she could tell Nakamura all about _my_ interesting childhood.

"Yes, let's." Nakamura looks at the large stack of papers on his desk. "How to begin, how to begin..." He shuffles the papers around, either trying to find something or to stall. I'm not sure which.

"Oh, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." Fuyumi turns in her chair to look at me. "I'm getting a divorce."

What?

"Yes, Fuyumi is divorcing her husband of fifteen years." Nakamura eyes shift, looking anywhere in the room except us. He's clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"It's been a long decision coming, really." Fuyumi sighs. "It's not the easiest thing to do in the world, but both of us will be much happier off afterwards."

"I see," is all I can manage to say, but my head is spinning. How can Fuyumi divorce her husband? I didn't think their father would allow that. Wait. A _divorce_ case? "Um, excuse me Nakamura-sacho?"

He looks at me. "Hm?"

"We...don't handle divorce...cases," I finish lamely, looking at my fingers and fiddling with my thumbs. At least, I'm 90% sure we don't handle divorce cases. I'm a criminal lawyer. I work on criminal court cases, at my criminal law firm. I don't remember divorce being part of my job description.

This earns a big belly laugh from Nakamura, brining him back into the conversation. "Yes, I suppose you're correct, Fujioka-san. We don't usually handle such cases. As uncomfortable as I am with divorce, I'm-" Fuyumi cuts him off.

"He's doing me a personal favor."

A personal favor?

"Ah-how could we have forgot to mention it, Fujioka-san? I'm so sorry." He smiles apologetically. "You see, Fuyumi's father, Yoshio Ootori, was my college roommate."

"I've known him since I was born," Fuyumi adds. "He's like a second father to me. When I decided it would be best to divorce my husband, I _begged_ Nakamura-san to be my lawyer. It took some convincing too!"

"So even though we don't normally handle divorce cases, let's do our best, eh, Fujioka-san?" I nod my head.

"Yes. Let's."

We spend the next hour going over the details of the case, Fuyumi tells us about her failed marriage, and Nakamura discusses divorce law. Even though I have almost no experience with divorce, by the time we finish talking, I feel like we can handle it.

Fuyumi says goodbye to us, and leaves the room. I stand up to leave after her, but Nakamura stops me. "Fujioka-san? Fuyumi didn't have the...easiest upbringing. Her father, Yoshio, is a good man, but, he hasn't been the best father. He's always been too focused on his business ventures, and never had enough time for his children." He runs his hand through his thinning hair. "I guess I'm trying to say that I think of Fuyumi like my own daughter, and I want you to treat her as such, okay?"

I look at Nakamura. He looks vaguely worried, so different from his usual cheerful attitude. It's obvious to anyone that he really cares about the Ootori children. "Yes boss." I say definitely. "There's nothing to worry about. We'll take care of it." I bow, and leave his office, still mulling over his words. I would have never thought Nakamura knew the Ootori family. He talks about his own family frequently and fondly, but I've never heard him mention Fuyumi, Kyoya, or either of their brothers.

"Ha-ru-hi." A singsong voice calls my name, distracting me from my thoughts, and I turn around. Fuyumi is leaning against the wall, waiting for me. "What? Did you _really_ think I wouldn't remember you? Come on," she cocks her head to the elevator bank, already walking towards it. "Let's go get coffee."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thank you so much for the kind words! They made my day^^ I have this story plotted out, but not written, so if you have any suggestions, please tell me, and I'll do my best to work them into the story. I've been busy this weekend, and I've written nothing in chapter three, so it might take me a little longer to get it out. I hope I can have it posted by mid-week though. In the meantime, y'all should watch episode 9 of Ouran, and flail over how silly Kyoya is. Oh-and we will definitely see Kyoya in chapter four, not three. Hope you can wait until then! Chapter three will be all about Fuyumi and Haruhi talking it out~~

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own anything in this story. All respective characters, situations, etc. belong to Bisco Hatori. I am not profiting from this in any way, shape or form. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Fuyumi takes me to a small, secluded cafe a few minutes' walk from the office. On our way out, I mutter to George that I'm taking our very important client out to discuss further matters about the case. He nods, says he'll pass the message along to Saki and anyone else who asks where I am.

By the way Fuyumi navigates the streets, I can tell she's been in this area many times before. She moves quickly, finding all the shortcuts through side streets, and dodges people traffic. As she walks, she's always three steps ahead of more. No more, no less. After a particularly tricky right turn down an alleyway, she looks behind to make sure I'm still there. Otherwise, our walk is in silence, and wrought with tension. She leaves me to my own thoughts, and I to hers.

The cafe itself appears to be nothing special. There are no flashy signs outside, no gimmicks like free wi-fi, and no big windows to entice customers with scenes of cosy armchairs and low lighting, perfect for cozying up with a blanket and well-worn book. Instead there are just a few tables, each in their own secluded area, clearly meant for an intimate conversation. I automatically gulp when I realize this.

There are few other patrons sitting and talking when we enter. Fuyumi nods towards an empty table, gesturing me to sit down and wait while she orders. I nervously drop my bag on the ground, making a loud clang. No one looks up. They're all too engrossed in their own private conversations.

"I've been coming here since I was a teenager," Fuyumi says, breaking the ice as she sits down at our table. "I found it after a remarkably bad day at home. I don't know what Kyoya ever told you about my family, but Kyoya and I see things differently than the rest of them. I love my family dearly, but they're...more focused than Kyoya and I are." She shakes her head and gets back to the topic. "I don't even know how long ago this fight was...it must have been 25 years, I don't know, but I argued with my father, got fed up, and ran into the city. Wandered the streets alone and upset for a couple of hours before I stumbled across this little cafe. I've been coming back ever since."

"I know it's stupid," Fuyumi chuckles to herself, "but I think this place is magic. Like, you can only find it if you _need_ this place. There's something about it that makes everything better, don't you think?" Her face is solemn as she finishes speaking, but I can see her Ootori family training kick in. Moments later, she flicks the switch, going back to the cheerful, outgoing Fuyumi the world sees.

The waiter brings us our drinks, placing them in front of us without a word. Fuyumi says thank you, and pushes the drink towards me. "Try it," she urges. "You'll like it."

Unnerved by the sudden change in attitude, I hesitate before tasting the drink like she suggests. However, all my misgivings fade away once the liquid touches my lips. It's incredibly good. It's so good that I know instantly I'll be back. I'm not sure how to even describe it. It's not coffee; I know that. But it's somewhat fruity, and I think chocolately, and maybe there's even a little alcohol.

Fuyumi smiles. "It's flavored chai," she explains. "It's pretty rare in Japan, but a number of places serve it in the States now." I nod my head, but say nothing. Despite her attempts at talking, the air is thick, and I'm waiting for the shoe to drop.

"So," I say, trying to steer the conversation. Fuyumi stares blankly at me. She blinks twice, and scans my face, as if she's searching for something.

"Did you _really _think I wouldn't remember you Fujioka Haruhi?" She says, teasing me.

I shrug. "I don't know. It's been years since I've seen you, and we only met a handful of times, and you pretended that you didn't know me first, so I just uh,...went with it."

"Only because you froze like a deer in headlights when you saw me! Don't think I didn't notice that, Haruhi." She tries to imitate my face in Nakamura's office, and regardless of its accuracy,...it's pretty funny. She makes me giggle, which is when I know things are going to be okay. Either Fuyumi doesn't know what happened between Tamaki and I, or she doesn't care.

"Well, you were the _last _person I was expecting when I walked into Nakamura-sacho's office this morning," I argue. "I heard I was meeting with an important client, so imagine when my surprise when I discovered it was _just_ an Ootori." I stick out my tongue, which makes Fuyumi laugh.

"_Just_ an Ootori," Fuyumi echoes, as she waves her hand dismissing my comments. "How have you been all this time? I know it's the cliche old-person thing to say, but you were so _little_ when I last saw you. You were this mousy lost girl, and now you're...," she pauses searching for the right words. "grounded."

"Um, thank you." I felt grounded up until this morning when Fuyumi, and with her, Ouran High School walked back into my life. But, I don't mention this to her. We talk for several minutes about law school, Nakamura, and how I enjoy working for him. The conversation fizzles out, and emboldened by her frankness, I get curious. "Can I ask what happened with your marriage?"

Fuyumi looks up in surprise. "Oh, that" she says. "There's nothing that happened, really." She explains. "I never really loved him and he never really loved me. It was a marriage of convenience. He's not a bad person; we just weren't meant to be together."

"Then why stay married to him for so long?"

"We had to." She shrugs. "I know you've heard this dozens of times from Kyoya, Tamaki and the others, but I don't think you'll ever really be able to understand." I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up her hand and clarifies herself. "No, no, it's not because of you. You just can't understand because you've never been put in this position, Haruhi."

"When you're as wealthy and powerful as we are, people expect things from you. You're supposed to look and act a certain way. You're supposed to smile and look pretty and be smart enough to take over the company, but not actually do it. You're supposed to speak six languages you'll never need to use, and you're definitely supposed to love a certain kind of person. The person I loved didn't fit the bill, but Shido did. So, we got married." She says it so matter of fact that I want to cry. I've heard everything she's said before, but somehow the earnestness of her words get to me.

"Then why get divorced now?" I ask. "I can't imagine your father is happy about this."

"Things change," she says all too quickly. "My father is no longer a concern." Fuyumi's voice is ice cold as she finishes her sentence. She looks down at her drink, and says nothing else. I wonder what happened, but I know that I shouldn't press her further. I nod to myself, and sit quietly, waiting for her.

Sure enough, moments later, she turns the smile back on, and comes back to the conversation. God damn Ootori training. "Now. Enough about me. Tell me all about the host club. Something happened, and Kyoya never spoke of it." She corrects herself. "Refuses to speak about it."

"Oh." I'm at a loss of what to say. "We just...drifted apart, I guess. It was high school; it couldn't last."

"I don't believe that for one second." Fuyumi looks at me seriously. "What the seven of you had was something special. You don't just throw that away for nothing."

"People change," I simply say.

"People change back," she argues. "Tell me what happened."

"I was...young and stupid," I start. "I broke up with Tamaki, and the group didn't handle it well. Tamaki didn't handle it well."

"Well, that was a given," she scoffs. "Tamaki hasn't handled anything in his life well. That boy is the kindest, warmest, most well-meaning mess of a person you'll ever meet." I can't argue with that. "You shouldn't feel guilty about that though," Fuyumi adds as an afterthought.

"Oh, I don't. It was...the right thing to do."

"Then why not meet the club?"

"It's like any breakup," I say. "People had to take sides, and they knew Tamaki longer." Fuyumi looks at me and sighs. Her sigh says it all. I, and they, screwed up six years ago. No one has to take a side in a break up. I should have tried harder to hold onto those friendships. I guess in my own way, giving up that life was my way of dealing with my pain. If I just pushed them all away I could focus on college and my dreams.

"You should meet Kyoya," Fuyumi interrupts my thoughts. "He's lonely."

"He hasn't spoken to me in six years," I say.

"So? It's been six years. He'll be happy to see you." Fuyumi looks really determined on this. Do I want to see Kyoya? Do I want to invite Ouran High School back into my life? I'm good now. I'm busy. I like being busy. I like my job. I don't need unnecessary drama.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea,..." I start to say, but Fuyumi interjects.

"It's a fantastic idea. Meet him." She orders.

"No, I really c-can't." I stutter. I'm just not ready for this.

"Why not?" Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she's ready to rumble. Fuyumi isn't going to back down from this. She's like a pit bull. Once she's set her mind on something, she's done. It's her way, and she won't stop until she gets it. Another side affect from the Ootori training, I'm sure.

The words tumble out of my mouth before I know what's happening, and can stop them. They're foolish, childish, petty, and prove that I am a grade A idiot.

Because what I say next starts a chain of events that I was trying _so_ hard to avoid.

"I can't meet Kyoya because I'm seeing somebody."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Whew! Finally had the chance to finish this chapter. I ended up working a lot of unexpected overtime this week, so by the time I got home I was too exhausted to write. This chapter is a little more serious, but don't worry. The next chapter brings back antics, and introduces Kyoya! Dun dun duhhhh. I _literally_ just finished this chapter, so I've got a lot to write a head of me. Thankfully, it's the weekend :D Thank you so much for your continued support! It means so much to me!

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own anything in this story. All respective characters, situations, etc. belong to Bisco Hatori. I am not profiting from this in any way, shape or form. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement.


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